mysterious and forbidden happiness; that he wished in some sort to pay the ransom of a jealous and frail felicity.
These mad largesses no doubt increased Blandine's anxiety; however, she did not risk any remonstrance, but devised how she might best meet these ill-considered expenses.
Of course, there was in the popularity of the Dykgrave a good deal of false worship, baseness, and cupidity, but if most of the rustics loved him in a coarse manner, at least they loved him after their fashion. The poor devils of fellows of Klaarvatsch especially would have let themselves be chopped in pieces for their young lord.
As for declared enemies, the Count knew of none, save the minister, Balthus Bomberg and a few mock-modest bigots. Every Sunday the minister thundered against the impiety and the shamelessness of the Dykgrave and threatened with hell the sheep who followed this libertine, this ravening wolf; he mourned especially the over venturesome visitors who frequented Escal-Vigor, that diabolical château decorated with scandalous nudities.
Although at daggers-drawn with the Burgomaster, this bilious little man, in his
